


The letter

by fliffen



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, I may be the devil, M/M, Suicide, he will never get it, hurt without comfort, mentions of Kate Bishup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-06 10:11:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3130736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fliffen/pseuds/fliffen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In two months’ time he had yet to read the letter in side. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. He didn’t want an explanation; he just wanted to stay mad at him for doing it. Angry that he left him, anger was easier than sadness. Hating him was easier then missing him.<br/>Kate had finely talked him in to reading the letter, or maybe it had been the sad look on Steve’s face when he asked if Clint had read it</p>
            </blockquote>





	The letter

**T** he envelope in his hands read, “Clint Barton” in clean even letters. Clint ran his fingers over his name. He knew the hand writing by heart long before receiving the letter, but he’d still read his name over and over again.

In two months’ time he had yet to read the letter in side. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. He didn’t want an explanation; he just wanted to stay mad at him for doing it. Angry that he left him, anger was easier than sadness. Hating him was easier then missing him.

Kate had finely talked him in to reading the letter, or maybe it had been the sad look on Steve’s face when he asked if Clint had read it. Steve had been the one to find it; he’d been saddened that it was not addressed to him, but he was respectful of it and gave it immediately to Clint.

He had poured himself a class of an expensive Scotch that Tony had given him for some occasion or another a long time ago. He downed one glass and poured another before setting down on the couch in his apartment.

He sat there for a while running his hands over the letter before he finally tore it open. He wasn’t certain at what point he’d started to shake, but he had. He unfolded the letter warily, then began to read it.

 

_Clint,_

_I’m sorry. I know those are words I have a hard time saying out loud, but I want you to know that I am sorry. You’re going to hate me for this, but it’s for the best. I know you’ve lost a lot of people in our line of work, but you’ve always managed._

_You’ll probably want to know why. It’s complicated. At least that’s what I keep telling the SHIELD shrinks. It’s not. I just can’t keep doing this. The nightmares won’t stop; I’ve hurt you more than ones when you’ve tried to wake me from them. I still lose control in fights and hurt people. Every one still feels like an enemy. A target. A mission I haven’t Completed. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t keep hurting my friends, my allies. You._

_The last two years, despite everything wrong with me and my life, they have been the best years of it, and you have been the best part of those years, Clint._

_I love you, Clint._

_And tell Stevie that it’ll be okay for me._

_Yours always,_

_James Bucky Barns._

 

The letter felt too short. They were the last words Bucky would ever say to him, and they didn’t feel like enough.

The next morning he handed the letter to Steve. The soldier looked scared and sad, but he took the letter. Clint stood there and watched as his expression shifted from fear, to sadness, to shock.

“I never knew.” He said with a shaky voice. He looked like he was on the verge of crying, but his concern for Clint outweighed his need to morn his best friend.

“Nobody did.” Clint said looking at the ground. “Sep for maybe Tash.” He almost laughed.

“I’m so sorry.” Steve said standing from where he’d been sitting to hug Clint.

“Don’t be. I’ll manage. He’s Right I always do.” And he would, even if it was the hardest thing he’d ever do.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you feel a profound emotion or maybe a strong desire to stab me? Good, that means I did my job well.  
> I wish I remember what was on my mind when I wrote this. Ha ha... May be I don't.  
> Sorry for any spelling/grammar errors or emotional trauma.  
> Thanks for reading! Comments are appreciated.


End file.
